Page 107 of The Wild Card
Wise words. Not that I should be surprised. Even from the start, Chase has brought some stability and balance to us.
After James, it was Pat’s turn to get weepy. Apparently, he’s concerned about Jo adjusting to the new baby.
“I just don’t want her to feel any less ours,” he said. “And I don’t know how my heart can love another little girl as much as I love Jo.”
And it was my dad who put a hand on Pat’s shoulder. “Your heart will expand. Trust me. I worried the same thing with everyone of you,” he said, looking around at each of our faces. “But I always had enough love for all of you—and for your mother.”
This had us all sniffling. Even Chase.
At this point, despite how special the night was and no matter the late hour, I still planned to drive back.
But then Dad announced he was planning to sell the house and move to Sheet Cake for good.
It’s been a while since any of us lived at this home, but this was the house we lived in with Mom. I could tell from my brother’s faces that they were struggling with this as much as I was. It just feels so … final. The end of one era and the start of a new one. I guess Tank buying Sheet Cake ushered in the start of it, but even buying a town feels small compared to selling the house.
“I didn’t think this would come as a shock, and I’m sorry it does,” Tank told us. “But it’s time for me to make some changes.”
Not even Pat found the courage to ask what other changes this might include. I know we were all wondering if Dad is also thinking about a relationship. He should, and we should all be supportive of it. But I think at some point, we all stopped considering the idea of Tank dating or getting remarried. He’s basically been a monk since Mom died.
If anyone is deserving of finding love, it’s our dad.
And yet … if I’m truly honest with myself, the idea makes me uncomfortable. I’ll have to work on getting used to it. Because, of course, I want my dad to be happy. We all do. But the idea of him having a girlfriend, or a wife—I just can’t even picture it.
The thought is still in the back of my mind, though the front of my mind is all focused on Molly.
At a certain point, it felt too late to drive back to Sheet Cake, and we all decided to crash at Tank’s.
Plus, Dad announced he was surprising us all with suits for the wedding we needed to pick up in Austin. “If you go back tonight, I’ll just bring them,” he said. “But if you want to make sure I had all the measurements right and they don’t need to make any changes, you might want to go with me in the morning to pick them up.”
James’s response had been, of course, a frown. “No one needs to wear anything special. That was the point—we didn’t want to trouble anyone over this.”
“It was no trouble. I wanted to. And I have a similar surprise waiting for the ladies. One I preapproved with the bride, of course. Including Molly,” Tank said, giving me a look that made me wonder if he sees through our charade.
It would have been the perfect moment in our impromptu vulnerability party to confess the truth to them all. But without being able to even text Molly a heads-up first, I didn’t want to—especially not when one of those people would be her brother.
Just like I don’t want to tell anyone the idea that’s taken root in my mind after the conversation with Jacob and Thayden.
I know what I want to do with the field.
But I want Molly to be the first person I talk to about it. Which has made the inability to reach her even more frustrating.
Pat’s phone rings, and from the grin on his face, I know it’s Lindy. “Ask her about Molly,” I say quickly.
“Hey, Lindybird. How are you?”
During the pause while he’s listening, I say, “Is she with Molly?” but Pat sticks his finger in his other ear to block me out.
The urge to leave him by the side of the highway grows.
But it’s replaced by a whole other feeling when he groans and his voice shifts from playful to serious. “That’s … not great news. Yeah, I’ll tell him.”
My stomach drops. “Tell me what?” I whisper-shout.
He waves me off. “Also—are you with Molly right now? Lover boy here is jonesing to talk to her. Something’s wrong with her phone. Oh, wow. That’s … okay. Yeah. Love you too. See you soon.”
“What’s wrong? Tell me what happened,” I demand.
Pat sighs. “You’re not going to like it.”
